


In The Lining of Your Skin

by Draconifors



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Body Worship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Love, Mild Language, Muriel Route (The Arcana), Muriel is my baby and he deserves the world, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22137070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draconifors/pseuds/Draconifors
Summary: After a tense encounter at the market, the Apprentice makes it their mission to show Muriel just how loved and valued he is.Shameless fluff and body worship because Muriel is a good boy and deserves it.Mention of scars, slight profanity.
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader, Muriel (The Arcana)/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 258





	In The Lining of Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> As if you were on fire from within.  
> The moon lives in the lining of your skin.  
> \- Neruda

It was a beautiful day, and Muriel had decided to join you on one of your resupplying runs at the market. You always enjoyed his company, but knew that he much preferred the quiet of the forest to the noise and activity of the market, even after all these months with you. You’d asked him to go get you some herbs from the new vendor while you were picking out some fruit. You didn’t like to split up when out in town, but after the lazy morning you’d had, sitting by the river with him, you were running somewhat late on your afternoon plans. 

You stopped by Muriel’s favourite merchant — although he would never say so — and bought him some eel on a stick, smiling to yourself as you imagined his face while he ate it. He’d grumble about you buying him something, but you were used to it by now. With all your purchases secure in your bag, you slipped through the crowd to join Muriel at the stall, nodding and smiling at the other customers greeting you. Apparently saving the city and being a decent magician were rather effective methods of gaining the favour of the people.

When you saw the tension in his shoulders, and the way he was trying to disappear underneath his cape, you frowned and hurried to join him — _what could have gone wrong?_ Your mind went through so many possibilities. After breaking the Devil’s hold on your plane, people had started remembering Muriel; it had made for a challenging first few months, as most only thought of him as the Scourge of the South. Still, most had quickly come around as Nadia, Asra and Julian spoke out in his favour. Your relationship with him was also well-known, and people wouldn’t dare upset you, mostly because they needed you.

Your reached out and rested a hand on Muriel’s lower back, his head turning to find the source of the touch. The tension in his shoulders dropped a bit as he saw it was you, but he still looked uncomfortable. His face was flustered, and you were ready to rip all the worlds apart with your bare hands so you wouldn’t have to see that uncertainty on his face again. 

“What’s going on here?” You squared your shoulders up and stared at the merchant, grateful you chose today to wear one of the outfits Nadia gifted you instead of the worn magician’s outfit you favoured. You took a good look at the merchant on the other side of the table; a stout, angry man, dressed in clothes you sometimes saw exotic sailors wear when they passed through the port. All you knew was that he’d only opened his stall last week.

“I don’t sell to people like him. And who the fuck are _you_? Come to defend your pet?” The venom in the man’s voice made all your bristles raise; you stepped in front of Muriel, who looked like he wanted to sink into the earth. Glaring, you leaned over the merchant’s table, hands resting on its edge. You let the anger flow through you and make your aura glow and crackle, making your hair whip around your shoulders.

“ _You_ don’t get to ask questions. Don’t make me repeat myself; it won’t end well for you.” 

The merchants at the neighbouring booths were muttering amongst each other, slowly edging away from the scene. You reckoned it was the first time any of them saw you angry; you seldom did get mad enough to show it. You’d have to talk to them later — why had they all let it escalate like this?

“Look at him. I shouldn’t have to tell you why I don’t want his dirty business. I don’t need blood money,” the merchant spat at you, and you heard Muriel take a deep, ragged breath behind you. You felt the table around your hands start to heat up, and you just squinted through the smoke. 

Everything flashed red, and the next thing you knew the table was smouldering and you were speaking to one of the city guards, calling in one of many favours from Nadia and getting the merchant booted. In the new city you, Nadia, Julian and Asra were trying to build, there was no space for ignorance and bigotry; his behaviour would’ve been unacceptable even if it hadn’t been directed towards Muriel. 

The situation somewhat calmed, you finally turned all your attention to Muriel, who was doing a very good job of hiding in his cloak. You reached a hand up to his cheek, gently stroking his face, and he just looked back at you with wide green eyes. 

“Home?” He just nodded at you, so you grabbed the bag containing your purchases with one hand, and gently intertwined your other hand’s fingers with Muriel’s, your thumb caressing the back of his hand. His grip tightened, and you trudged back to the cabin. You’d send a message off to Asra to explain why you didn’t show, but knew he’d understand. 

* * *

You made Muriel a cup of tea and brought it to where he was sitting on the corner of his bed. There was still tension in his shoulders, and he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes, but you knew that when he was in this mood, it was better to just let him break the silence first. You just sat on the floor near him, and leaned on his legs, looking up at him. He sipped the tea in silence, stealing occasional glances at you through his hair. 

“Why did you defend me? … I should be able to do it on my own.” You could hear the unspoken behind his quiet words; he still didn’t like depending on others too much, although he’d gotten better at it. 

“Because he was wrong. Because I’m happy to stand up for you until you’re comfortable doing it for yourself, regardless of how long it takes. I’ll do it for the rest of our lives, if I have to, just to know you’re happy. Because I love you.”

“But they’re right. I’m a monster. I’m intimidating. How can you … like this? All these ugly scars. I’ve _hurt_ people.” And your heart broke into a million pieces, that Muriel still thought so little of himself sometimes that he didn’t think himself worthy of love. 

“I love every single part of you, Muriel. Your past doesn’t define you. You’re the best person I know, love.”

You reached out and tangled both your hands in his hair, gently stroking his scalp and moving his hair out of his face. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at you. You doubted that you’d ever get tired of his beautiful green eyes. You bent down to pepper kisses down the pale scar running across his forehead, right between his eyebrows that were so often creased.

“I love the way you smile when you eat eel on a stick, holding it so delicately.”

You moved on to the scar that took up most of his left cheek, tenderly stroking it with your fingers before chasing it with your lips. You could feel Muriel tremble below you, his hands clutching at his knees. 

“I love how happy you look when you’re feeding the chickens, and how you cluck at them when you think I can’t hear you.” 

You moved from his jaw to his lips, pressing the tenderest kiss you could on them. He kissed you back with a desperation you hadn’t seen since those long days on the Steppe with Morgana, and you stroked his face in complete adoration. Breaking away, you looked at him, finding two warm eyes staring back at you with so many emotions twirling in their depths. You gently unclasped his cloak, letting it fall on the bed behind him. You could see him start to curl up on himself without the comfort of the piece of cloth, but your hands, gentle on his shoulders, halted his movement. Kissing him again, you undid the buckles holding up his leather harness, letting your hands trail on his body as you slowly removed it.

“I love how you hum when you whittle little figurines, and I love how you leave them around for me to find when you’re gone.” Your mouth was on the scar on his chest. “I love how you never let me go through things alone, even if you'd rather leave.” The one on his stomach. “I love the way you make me breakfast in the morning because you know I won’t bother making it for myself.” The one snaking around his right bicep. “I love how you wrap me up in your cloak when I’m cold, even though you’d told me to dress up better.” His right forearm. “I love how much you care about others, like Asra and Inanna, and will do your best to protect them.” The small one behind his wrist.

You took his right hand between both of yours, and brought it up to your face, looking up from where you were, halfway down his body. You nuzzled into his huge hand, closing your eyes and smiling. His breath was coming in ragged, and you weren't sure if he was closer to crying or running away. 

“I love it when you touch me, always. I trust you endlessly.” You kissed each of his fingers, naming a new way he touched you with each: holding your hand in crowds, so you didn’t get separated; helping you cross streams that your city life hadn’t prepared you for; tucking your hair behind your ear whenever you got distracted; pulling you closer in bed on those lazy mornings, when he was still half-asleep; gently caressing your cheek when it was just the two of you. 

“I love the way you laugh. I love every single second of it.” You moved to his other arm, kissing the silver scar on his shoulder. “I love the way you come with me to the city, although I know you don’t really care for it.” The one on the inside of his forearm. “I love the way you make my life easier, every day.” The middle of his palm. His five fingers, and five of your favourite gestures of his. The way he lent you his magic whenever you had to cast demanding spells; the way he picked flowers in the forest and dropped them off in vases at home; the way he carried you to bed whenever you fell asleep in his lap; the way he started going out of his comfort zone and helping with the city’s reconstruction; the way he felt almost reverent when he kissed you.

This time, when you looked back up at him, you could see unshed tears in his eyes, but he looked enraptured as he watched you on your knees, at the bottom of the bed. His breath was coming in gasps, and he brought a hand up to your face, letting his fingers tangle in your hair. You leaned into the touch, smiling up at him. 

You gently unbuckled his belt, helping him out of his pants and watching a crimson blush spreading over his face. After all this time, he was still so bashful whenever either of you undressed, but he was slowly improving. You gently pushed him back so he was lying comfortably on the bed, and continued your long journey down his (very long) body. With your hands on his thighs, you kissed the thick pale scar on his left thigh, the one that sometimes still itched him. 

“I love the way you’re direct with me, always letting me know in your own way what you think.” Then the pale scar going almost halfway around his left calf. “I love the way you blush whenever I catch you off-guard.” The scar behind his right knee. “I love the way you make faces at me when you think no one else is looking.”

Satisfied with the way you mapped out his body with your kisses, you slowly moved back up towards his face, peppering kisses along the way and stopping at your favourite places. Some extra kisses on the inside of his right knee, where he’s ticklish and doesn’t want to admit it. That muscular indent on his right hip, your favourite spot for the way it always made his breath hitch. His collar bones, so smooth and inviting. You lavished kisses on his neck, and watched as his head fell back to give you easier access. You could feel his pulse under his skin, and laid your hand on the side of his neck so you could feel the flutter of his heartbeat. 

You finally got back to his face, kissing him like you were dying of thirst and his lips were the only cold spring in the world. His arms finally curled around you, pulling you closer to him. You settled down on top of him and cradled his face with your hands. 

“Most of all, I love the way you let me love you, and the way you love me. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have found you in this world.” He’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and his head comes up to kiss you. You revel in his presence, smiling up at the man you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your life with. 

“Thank you. I… I’m the lucky one here.” His arms tightened around you, and you pressed a quick kiss to his jaw. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was blushing, but that’s what made him great. “I love you too.” 

The two of you spent a good while in bed, enjoying each other’s company and putting the time to good use. Tomorrow, you’d face the rest of the world again — together, as always.


End file.
